


think i'm allergic to every other person

by totallyunrelated



Series: fairondale [1]
Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyunrelated/pseuds/totallyunrelated
Summary: The one in which everyone gets a happy ending (we can only hope). James has some thoughts about his parabatai and his sister.Can be read as a sort-of prequel to "shovel talk".Title taken from We Belong by Dove Cameron (such a good song!!)
Relationships: Cordelia Carstairs/James Herondale, James Herondale & Lucie Herondale, Matthew Fairchild/Lucie Herondale
Series: fairondale [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854607
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	think i'm allergic to every other person

James’s frown deepened as he observed Matthew and Lucie on the dance floor. Lucie’s head was thrown back, a bright smile lighting up her face, and Matthew was looking down at her with an indiscernible look on his face that James didn’t dare put name to. 

When they were younger, Matthew had been fond of Lucie, in a hopeless puppy-love sort of way. James had never cared much, mostly because he knew it would never amount to anything; Lucie herself had said that she did not return Matthew’s feelings, so that was that. He also knew Matthew would never act upon it, content to admire from afar. Strangely, James had always had a feeling that Matthew felt that he did not deserve Lucie’s affections, but every time he tried to pry further as to the cause of Matthew’s unhappiness he was rebuffed. Now he knew the truth, though, knew that Matthew had never voiced his feelings to Lucie because he felt that he would hurt her. He assumed that Lucie also knew, because things had shifted infinitesimally between them at some point in the last few months. He wasn’t quite sure when, but something had changed, gradually but surely. Whereas before Matthew had looked at her in a hopeless, longing sort of way, always when he thought no one was looking, now he looked at her as if she was the sun, moon and stars, like she was the only person in the room. And Lucie? Before she had paid no attention to Matthew’s lingering gazes, preferred to brush off his compliments as teasing, but now she met his glances with bright smiles, blushed when he paid her a compliment. It was subtle, and perhaps he was reading too much into it, but now that he had noticed he couldn’t get the thought of them out of his head.

Lucie was his sister, his little sister. His first instinct would always be to protect her, shield her, keep her from harm, no matter how much she protested and insisted that she could take care of herself. As he grew up he’d watched his father with Aunt Cecily, Barbara and Eugenia with their younger brother Thomas, and known he had to be that for Lucie. And Matthew … Matthew was his _parabatai_ , in some ways meant to be closer to him than his sister, than his parents, a bond stronger than blood. James would trust him with his life, with Lucie’s life. But somehow he didn’t trust Matthew with Lucie’s heart.

Once he had told Lucie that he didn’t think she and Matthew were right for each other. She had agreed, then; he didn’t know what she would say now. It wasn’t because he thought either of them were lacking - Lucie was one of the best people he knew, anyone would be lucky to have her, even if they had to jump through the triple hurdles of himself, Tessa and Will. But Matthew, charming though he was, as much as James loved him, had been in a very dark place, hadn’t been willing to talk to anyone - even James - about it, had drowned his sorrows in alcohol and debauchery. James did not want Lucie to be drawn into his darkness and come out scarred. He loved Matthew, he did, but he hadn’t been willing to accept James’s help, and James refused to let anyone he cared about have to go through the pain and frustration of that. Now, though, Matthew seemed happier, lighter, as if finally telling his friends about the sin he’d kept hidden for so long had absolved him. It hadn’t, James knew that, but at least the burden he bore wasn’t on him alone anymore. They were finally on the road to healing; Matthew had promised to drink less, and there were traces of the old Matthew showing through. Sometimes James still caught glimpses of Matthew swigging from the silver flask he kept at his belt, but he was increasingly noticing an absence of the flask whenever they were with the Merry Thieves, or Lucie. It made him happy to know that his _parabatai_ was finally on the way to forgiving himself.

“James?” It was Cordelia, flushed after a night’s worth of dancing. As always his heart beat faster at the sight of her, beautiful as always in one of Anna’s dresses, this one bronze, sending his mind back to the Whispering Room. How her skin felt under his hands, the breathy sighs she made as he kissed her … He shook the thoughts away and focused on her voice.

“What is on your mind? This is our engagement ball, and it’s not like you to stand in the corner brooding.” Her tone was light, but he could see the worry and doubt in her eyes. His heart clenched and he pulled her closer, trying to assuage her doubts. He would forever hate himself for what he had done to her, would never understand why she had forgiven him, even given him a second chance, still loved him despite everything.

“It’s nothing, Daisy. My feet just needed a break from dancing,” said James. Over the top of her head he could see Matthew and Lucie on the other side of the ballroom, heads bent close together. Sensing his distraction, Cordelia lifted her head to follow his gaze.

“You are worried about Lucie,” she said, and this time there was amusement, and a bit of relief in her voice. Guilt pierced him as he realized: she had thought he was still looking for Grace.

He smiled sheepishly. “You must think that I am being unreasonable,” he said. “After all, Matthew is my _parabatai_ , the person I have tied my soul to. I could wish for no one better for my sister.” He was very aware that he sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and Cordelia seemed to know it too, for there was a tiny smile on her face.

“Lucie is good for him,” she said. “She encourages him to focus on the positives, on the future, rather than dwelling on the past. Surely you have noticed that he drinks less in her presence too.”

“As always, you are right,” sighed James. “I just cannot help but worry. I am her brother, I have to look out for her. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Matthew loves her,” said Cordelia confidently. “He would never hurt her.” She looked him straight in the eyes as she said it, like she was talking to him rather than about Matthew and Lucie. _I forgive you_ , her eyes said. _I do not blame you._ He had to look away at that, eyes prickling. _You shouldn’t_ , he wanted to tell her. _You deserve so much better than me_. But he was too selfish to say it, would cherish every day he had with her until she realised it herself.

“I love you, Cordelia Carstairs,” he said, enjoying the way her eyes lit up, transforming her entire face. She seemed to glow, like an angel. He thought that this might be what his mother had looked like when she’d Changed into the angel Ithuriel during the Clockwork War, and understood why his father had always looked at her in that way he had, with the look he reserved only for her. When he was younger they had always been his ideal of what love should be like, but as he got older, got entangled with Grace, he’d stopped believing that love like that existed for him; but Cordelia had proved him wrong. 

“I love you, James Herondale.”


End file.
